"Do something!" Sara shouted at the SWAT commander when Nick's screams of agony filled the speakers.

Catherine kept her hand over her mouth. She felt her teeth dig into the flesh of her finger, then she nearly bit down when she heard Nick's pain filled cry again.

Warrick stormed over to the console, staring at the speaker, Nick's soft moans drifting in and out. He slammed his hand down on one of the control consoles. "Go in there and save him!" he thundered.

"Mr. Brown, calm down or I'll have you removed," the commander warned.

"Warrick," Grissom said softly.

Commander Henry looked over at the group. "I can't let my guys go in there. The building may be rigged to explode."

"He's too busy torturing him to notice any of you going in," Warrick growled.

Grissom eyed his CSIs. "Walker could blow them all up, if any bombs are triggered by any of the doors," he tried to reason.

Warrick gaped at his supervisor and his ability to use such a calm and steady voice. But the pain in Grissom's eyes gave him away. Warrick knew he was only trying to keep everyone composed.

"Damn it!" Warrick swore and stalked back over towards Sara, whose face paled at the words being exchanged between hostage and kidnapper.

Greg grimaced as Nick reasoned with his attacker. It was too eerie to hear him explain the fundamental psychology of an abuser and the self-hatred and self-recrimination of a victim. Hearing that pained voice try to rationalize with the other man, to connect in some way, made his stomach churn. Greg took small steps forward and rested his hands on the back of a chair, trying not to lean over too far by the ramifications of it all. He stood transfixed by the conversation, replaying some of the cases he helped his friend with during his lab days and how detached and professional he'd been able to stay during some of the more horrific crimes.

'No one!' Nick's voice cracked. 'I told no one. I just pretended it didn't happen.'

Greg gulped back the bile that threatened to rise in his throat at the words. He felt a hand on his back, as Sara managed to move her paralyzed body, her face moist from the terrible exposure of the childhood trauma.

Warrick kept his back to the end of the wall, staring straight into the amplifier, his face cracking at the rage that filled his being.

'I never wanted it. Neither did you,' he whispered.

Warrick balled his fist and slammed it into the wall. The two other police officers didn't move to eject him out of the van. Commander Henry crossed his arms in front of his chest, reluctantly telling his men to stand by.

Grissom kept his eyes closed, not only to concentrate on the conversation, but to try to keep his face a mask of authority. He squeezed his eyes tighter during certain points of the discussion. His head jerked up after what Walker had threatened.

'You'll have to kill me first.'

Grissom's eyes flew open, his breath caught in his throat. Catherine leaned on him, clinging her arms around his shoulders, her eyes filled with unshed tears. She was mumbling 'no' under her breath as the entire team tensed up from the sounds of a struggle.

'Just let go.'

Walker's sinister voice was barely heard over the white noise and the quiet punctuated by a gunshot.

Catherine screamed out, and Greg ran out of the van. Grissom held onto the female CSI as he strained to hear anything to signal that Nick was alive. Sara sniffled in the background as Warrick Brown slid down to the floor, his back resting against the wall.

Nick felt the weight of the man collapse on him and the spray of blood as it coated his clothes. Trent Walker's loose fingers dropped the knife where it clanked to the floor. The front of his shirt was stained crimson red, dripping down over Nick's body. His dark blue eyes looked surprised, as he dragged his weight off of Nick and began to crawl away.

Nick was gasping down; his shaky hand still gripped his weapon tightly. He rolled to his side, ignoring pain and exhaustion. His eyes followed Trent's increasingly sluggish movements. The blood drops left in his wake a large indication of how bad a wound he suffered. Nick groaned as he started to crawl in the opposite direction towards the door and away from this place. His brain was fuzzy, he moved on his hands and knees towards the elusive door. He heard Trent choke and sputter for air as he continued to flail around on the floor.

Nick's arms trembled from the strain of holding him up, but if he didn't continue moving he would surely collapse and he didn't want to remain stuck in the same room with a dying man. So he clawed at the floor, inching his way forward. If he had any presence of mind, he would have alerted his friends that he was alive, but Nick had forgotten about the wire hidden in his vest long ago. His skull pounded with such a terrible and blinding headache that he probably couldn't even name the current date.

Nick's hands grasped the door handle and he used it to pull himself upright. He turned the handle so that the door creaked open, leading to the hall and his freedom.

Nick stayed hunched over, his arm around his middle in some vain attempt to keep the pain at bay. Nick took a few steps and fell to one knee. He took a trembling hand to wipe away the sweat that dripped into his eyes. The final door, a blurry outline, was only a few feet away. He growled and swore as he hobbled along and rested his body against the exit. Nick was breathing so heavily he felt that his lungs would explode. He finally took his last bits of energy and shoved his way through. The sunlight blinded him, but the scent of fresh air was enough to send him onto the steps.

He vaguely heard the sounds of radios and officers converging from a safe distance away. A voice from far away was asking him if the building was clear, but all he could to do was lean on the railing as he made his way down the steps. He managed to go down one flight until his body had enough.

His legs simply gave out and fell to the ground in a heap.

Too weak to move anymore, too out of it to care.

Greg found a spot away from the van and leaned his body over an empty patrol car. It was too much. The dead child, the conflicted father, his witness to Nick's attack, his friend's slow unraveling at the seams. To hear Nick's painful voice through the speakers at his unwanted confession, knowing he was privy to a secret that was something that should not have been forced upon him. To know the secret had been purged out of Nick from the force of pain made him sick. The only thing keeping Greg from throwing up was the presence of so many cops around.

Greg took deep breaths, berating himself for his cowardice, for abandoning Nick. It finally dawned on him how strong a person his friend was. Nick Stokes was the polar opposite of Trent Walker- he had moved on and devoted his life to helping victims of crimes. Greg felt such pride to be able to work side-by-side with a man he could continue to learn so much from. He stood up, his body no longer shaking, when the door to the van flew open and the rest of the team piled out, running through the parking lot.

Scared, Greg went after them, until a group of SWAT members blocked their path several hundred feet from the building. Greg's breathing started to become frantic again.

"What? What happened?"

Warrick was scanning the building, his line of sight directly at the doors. Sara was close behind him, her hand on his arm, franticly looking around. Her face was pale, her eyes smeared from makeup. Catherine was behind Grissom, her body in constant motion and her feet moving back and forth in place.

Greg looked over at Grissom, to seek out some sort of presence of mind, but the normally stoic supervisor looked… unsure and almost fearful. Warrick saw the young man approach, knowing the last thing he heard was the dreaded gun shot.

"I gave Nick a gun. He asked for one at the hospital. He hid it in an ankle holster."

The rest of the team gaped at his statement, a tiny sense of hope evident in their demeanor.

"We heard movement, Nick's breathing," Catherine explained, imagining Nick escaping the horror of the situation.

Each team member waited and listened and stared until the door opened, revealing their friend. Each CSI wanted to go to him, but the danger and uncertainly of what was happening kept them away. Several SWAT members crept closer. One of them shouted at Nick, asking him about the suspect. Warrick bounced up and down anxiously on the balls of his feet at the sight of his partner and friend, barely able to move.

Nick wobbled and leaned heavily on the railing, scarcely making it down the first flight of stairs. Warrick's heart nearly gave out when Nick simply collapsed under his weight.

Warrick searched for any signs that some member of the elite team of rescuers was going to go and help. Seeing only hesitancy, and knowing the guidelines, he said, 'screw it,' and pushed away one of the men in front of him who was too fixated by the drama in front of them.

"Warrick!" Grissom shouted.

It was too late. Warrick was running towards the stairs, not caring about the commotion of his actions. What he didn't realize was the chaos that he created shook up the SWAT team so badly that Sara rushed behind him close on his heels.

"Sara!"

Warrick heard the frantic voice of his supervisor and knew from the noise that his coworker was close behind him. Warrick flew up the first set of stairs and came to a screeching halt as he got to Nick's still form. He saw the blood splattered all over the front of his shirt and for one single moment thought that maybe his best friend had indeed been shot.

With a shaky hand he touched Nick's face.

"Nick?" He started running his hands under the vest and shirt and didn't find a hole or wound. Sighing with a bit of relief, he leaned over.

"Nick, come on man," he coaxed.

Sara was next to him, squatting along, her eyes taking in the stillness of her friend.

Nick raised his hands to defend himself, but Warrick quickly took one of them in his own. "Its okay, bro. We're here. It's over."

Warrick tried to remain collected. Nick was barely conscious, his brown eyes opened slightly confused.

"Warrick?"

Warrick smiled. "Yeah, man. Come on let's get away from here."

Sara looked over at her coworker nervous at the approximation to the building. "Want us to each grab a side?"

Warrick looked over at her, nodding his head. "Yeah, let's see if we can get him up."

Both Warrick and Sara carefully draped an arm around their shoulders, slowing bringing Nick to his feet. He was dead weight between them, barely moving as they started their decent down the stairs. Sara kept her arm around Nick's small waist, finding some comfort in helping just a little.

The trio made it down the last flight of stairs, each one keeping their balance, talking softly to Nick, as they tried to keep him focused. Sara saw Greg arguing with one of the police officers. It seemed he won out somehow as he walked past him, after a disgruntled sense of acknowledgement. Greg met them as the got to the sidewalk, still several feet from the supposed safety zone.

Greg nervously followed them along.

"Why don't you grab his legs," Warrick suggested, since they had been practically dragging him the last few seconds.

Happy to have something to do, Greg snatched Nick's feet and the three moved him all the way back to the parking lot.

Warrick noticed Dr. Taylor waiting for them near the SUV. He heard the sirens of an ambulance which had been told to be on standby. He almost forgot about the physician during the hostage stand-off. He vaguely wondered where she was the entire time.

Grissom and Catherine walked behind the team now, a few officers keeping their distance.

"Lower him down to the ground," Dr. Taylor ordered.

The trio laid Nick down to the asphalt as the doctor began her cursory examination. She unzipped his vest, and unbuttoned his shirt. Sighing in relief that his bandage was still clean and his stitches still in place, she went through her medical bag for a few needed items.

The trio watched as she listened to his heart, and wrapped a BP cuff around his arm. The ambulance drew closer. She looked up at the CSIs. "What the hell happened to him?"

Grissom opened his mouth to answer just as the ground rocketed from an explosion. The sounds of glass shattering, and fire roared through the area. Smoke plumed from the building and everyone around lowered themselves to the ground out of instinct.

Grissom covered Nick up with his body, even though there wasn't any danger from falling debris or shrapnel. Dr. Taylor had also leaned over from her side to shield the man from any potential danger.

People began shouting and screaming. A fire crew only a few blocks away was called to respond. Warrick turned his head towards the now ruined side of the structure. His face grew somewhat calm and he brought his gaze back over towards the doctor. "He was just being Nick."

Dr Taylor didn't respond as she focused back towards her patient. "What is he like when he's not trying to save kids from insane madmen?"

"He's into sports, helping old ladies across the street, and birds," Greg responded.

Dr. Taylor looked over at him, confused, and shook her head as she prepared him to be transported back to the hospital.

tbc...

Author notes at my bio.